Asia Times - May 12,
2001.
WHISPERS OF CHANGE
Part 3: Life on the borderline
By Lucy Murray
Part 3: Life on the borderline
By Lucy Murray
It is not hard to see why. Members of Myanmar's ethnic minorities - including the Karen, Karenni and Shan - have been engaged in a more or less constant struggle for greater autonomy since Myanmar's independence from the British in 1948. Myanmar's ruling junta, known as the State Peace and Development Council (SPDC), has been brutal in its opposition and atrocities are commonplace.
During a visit to some Karen friends in Yangon, Saw Mathew, a father, checks that no one is looking and then pulls out a packet of photos. Expecting to see some family snaps, I turn them over. Facing me is the bloated and bloodied face of a dead man - two bullet holes clearly visible in his neck. "My wife's nephew," Saw Mathew informs me. "He was a farmer in [village name withheld] Tenassarim Division. He was out looking for a lost calf when he came across some SPDC soldiers. As he walked past them, they shot him." Why? "They said he was a Karen guerrilla - he wasn't. You can see he is not in uniform. But the soldiers are too afraid to go into the jungle to look for the real guerrillas. He left a wife and two small children." Saw Mathew sighs. "We are like game for them to hunt in the jungle."
In a bid to reduce support from ethnic villagers for the guerrilla armies, the junta has a policy of forcing entire settlements to move to "relocation camps", leaving their crops and possessions behind them. Poorly paid and ill-disciplined SPDC soldiers simply steal what they need from already impoverished villagers. There are frequent allegations of rape and torture used against people suspected of having any contact with ethnic troops.
The results of this brutality can be seen in Thailand, where some 120,000 refugees and an unknown number of illegal migrants have taken shelter. Sitting in a small bamboo house in one of the three Karenni refugee camps - home to more than 19,000 people - Saw Wah, a solemn boy of 10 years old, tells me his story. "The SPDC troops came to our house. They said my father was a Karenni guerrilla, and shot him. Then they killed my great-grandmother, my grandmother, my mother, and my two baby brothers." Altogether nine people - four generations from one family - were killed. When the attack happened, Saw Wah was four years old. These brutal policies have only served to deepen mistrust and resentment, ensuring that the cycle of violence continues.
Complex constitutional issues are also at stake. Myanmar's constitution has been suspended since 1988 - a secretive committee appointed by the junta is working on a new one, but progress is glacial. No one knows what provisions it contains for the ethnic states, whose demands range from greater autonomy to full independence.
To take just one example, one of the less well-known groups, the Karenni, claim that their small, mountainous state in eastern Myanmar was illegally absorbed into the Union of Myanmar. Documents prove that the major part of Karenni territory was recognized as independent by both the Myanmese and the British colonial government in 1875. However, in 1947, Karenni State was incorporated into the newly formed Union of Myanmar. Karenni leaders resisted, and Myanmese troops marched in the following year. They have never left.
The Karenni Army (KA) is grimly determined to go on resisting what they describe as the Myanmese occupation. It is an almost impossible task. After a brief ceasefire with the SPDC broke down in 1995, SPDC troops poured in in even greater numbers. There are now an estimated 30 SPDC battalions active in Karenni State, each with 150-300 soldiers - between 4,500 and 9,000 troops in total. By contrast, the KA numbers some 1,500 troops, according to Oo Reh, the Joint Secretary of the Karenni National Progressive Party (KNPP), in exile in Thailand.
The KA has suffered heavy losses in recent years, and now controls only around 25 percent of the state, leaving most large settlements - including Loikaw, the capital - in the hands of the SPDC. Although poorly paid, the SPDC troops have access to weapons, ammunition and training. Unrecognized by the international community, the KNPP must raise what money it can for its modest army by taxing the border trade that flows through its territory.
There is little confidence that the talks in Yangon will improve anything. Says Oo Reh, "I've heard about the talks, but we haven't seen any change in policy. We don't even know what they are talking about - it could be the future of Myanmar, it could just be a confidence-building measure. Or it could just be the SPDC's attempt to reduce international pressure."
Even if the talks result in the NLD assuming a greater role in government, opponents claim the party would be no more successful than the SPDC in dealing with the ethnic groups. That is probably not true. For one thing, ethnic parties could expect to perform reasonably well in any future democratic election, improving their representation within the Union of Myanmar government. The Shan, for example, won 23 of 485 seats at the last election, held in 1990, although the junta never implemented the results.
However, it is not clear what stance the NLD would take on ethnic demands for greater autonomy or even secession. That worries Oo Reh of the KNPP: "I believe Aung San Suu Kyi would be sympathetic - but if she isn't around to lead negotiations, them I'm not so confident. Several of the senior members of the NLD have military backgrounds. They might not be prepared to let ethnic states go."
Back inside Myanmar, Saw Mathew echoes those fears. "The fight between Aung San Suu Kyi and the junta is a fight between brother and sister - at the end of the day, they are both Myanmese." Until relations with ethnic states improve, the outlook for peace in Myanmar remains bleak.
(Some names have been changed.)